Meant to Walk Alone
by RLK
Summary: In the organization, the current number 7 decides to pick up her sword and cut her own path, rather than letting fate have its way with her. Slightly AU for main storyline plot deviations. Full version can be found on my personal site [see my homepage].
1. Fallen from Grace

Claymore by Yagi Norihiro 

Fanfiction by Ryuuzaki Kusakûrin

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine. Don't own, don't sue.

**WARNINGS:** Spoiler for **every single book after 7**. Yes, I've read through the current volume, 12. I'm waiting for volume 13. Also, there might be Yuri, I have no idea yet. Honestly, I'm just rolling with the punches here.

**RATING:** T, maybe M in later chapters.

**OTHER NOTES: **I write in English (UK), so if anything is misspelled in American English, it's because of minor differences in spelling and such.

**CHAPTER THEME: **Dress (Bloody Trinity Mix) by BUCK-TICK

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: Fallen from Grace**

**Meant to Walk Alone **

She had always been a loner, she mused, her reasonably short silver hair swishing in the winter breeze. She had always been more comfortable in the winter-like weather, much like she had always been more comfortable with her youma father than with her human mother. The village children had somehow always sensed that something was wrong, and it was; her mother had never mentioned a father to the rest of the small town. She remembered those days well... Very well indeed, for as a so-called Claymore, her memories never truly faded.

* * *

Her very own youma father had cared about her in his own way, she knew, but he was a monster at the same time. All the same, it was **his** blood that had given her the traits of the half-breeds, though until now it had never occurred like this. 

What she knew of the story was rather vague; her father had been feeding one night and stumbled upon Cessa, her mother. Not wanting to die, she had gambled with the devil – and had won. She would hide him and not notify anyone, and in return, he spared her.

When she had been born, both of her parents were amazed that she had survived... Her mother had_ tried_ to love her, to her own credit, but finally realized that her child was more beast than human and had left her daughter in the care of the youma. Of course, being only a half-breed had brought about its own troubles; it had taken quite a while before she was accepted. Still, her only remaining parent had taught her to fend for herself.

Frowning, she remembered the day she had killed her first human. Driven by sheer hunger and exhaustion, she had called upon the use of her claws and limbs, and as she feasted on her prey, the son of the man she had slaughtered entered the room. He had screamed then, and beat on her back until she had turned around to kill him...  
...but found that she was unable to. Instead, she held him close to her. The boy had fought her iron grip until he realized that he was not going to be killed, and had simply sobbed in her transformed arms. When the group of youma found her like that, they had abandoned her out of shame and anger. From there she had walked a full 30 miles until she found a place she could call "home".

About three months later, a youma had terrorized that village, and seeking acceptance, she had fought it and won... though not before she had been forced to reveal the nature of her strength.

Only days later, she was sold to a nameless organization...one that men and youma alike called Claymore.

* * *

Now, she was number 7 in the organization – after the death of the former number 7 in Pieta, she had been promoted from twelfth to seventh on sheer ability alone. Best known as 'Blackheart' or 'Aven' Larkir, she kept her past a secret, much like the reason she had risen through the ranks so quickly – she was only 17, yet possessed the same intelligence borne of experience that stronger warrior did. She was 75 youma, and though she kept the urge under control, she craved human flesh because of the high ratio of youma-to-human blood. Simply put, she was too much of a monster and not enough of a human. Her eyes were always golden, and when she released 30 percent youma power [usually enough to transform a Claymore's face, her arms would manifest the change by more or less awakening into winged appendages that she used to both block and gain an aerial advantage. She possessed more power than even the former 'Blood-soaked warrior' Ophelia, but because of the unusual nature of her power, she remained silent and out of sight. It fit, she thought bitterly, that she would be hidden away like the so-called 'failed creations', since in a way, she was much the same. She supposed that it was nothing out of the ordinary, the organization was created by humans and humans were flawed beings. Of course they would want to hide the blemish that she created by existing. 

"Larkir." The voice was strangely smooth and light - she recognized it immediately and dropped her assault towards the unknown figure. A female padded softly into the clearing-for all purposes she was human, though she exuded a purely youma aura. Her auburn hair was tied back into a long braid, and her piercing hazel eyes reflected the dim light of the clouded moon. Tanned skin was covered with elf-like garments and a heavy earthen-coloured travelling cloak. A sword very similar to a Claymore's hung on the newcomer's back, but for a silver-eyed slayer, there was no mistaking it. This was an Awakened Being carrying the sword of a Claymore.

"Lucrecia," the single digit replied by way of greeting. She called the Awakened One by that name because of the relationship as friends they had once had... Her former comrade-in-arms had perfected what the warrior Riful had been attempting to learn when she had overexerted and awakened – the Artemis Swordstep. They had been friends from their initiation into the organization, they had become slayers together; Lucrecia was, for a brief time, a single digit. But one night, everything had gone desperately and completely wrong.

The two ran across an Awakened Being on a routine job about one month into their new lives, though they didn't even realize the danger since they had never been told about them. Larkir, despite her considerable skill level, had been wounded, and her friend and comrade-in-arms had been nearly killed protecting her injured partner. In truth, 'Artemis' Lucrecia would have died had she not awakened. All the same, Larkir had reported her comrade's death to the organization [falsely in order to keep her friend still alive. Somehow she had gotten away with it – either that or the organization didn't want to have to face what was not an immediate danger.

* * *

"'Lark, are you alright?" 

"I'm fine," she remarked tonelessly, pulling her sword out from behind her. "I need to practice," she sighed, allowing her silver hair to fall back behind her.

"Mm," Lucrecia agreed. "How so?"

"I need to sharpen the blade of the Quicksword – it isn't nearly enough to completely slice through an awakened being yet. And Miria's phantom step... if I combined the two, it might work," she thought out loud.

"What if you instead learned Ilena's Quicksword and then awakened your legs to gain even more speed?" The Awakened One sat down neatly beside her comrade, carefully folding her arms together in a non-threatening way. Whether they were friends or not, the day Larkir got an order to dispatch of her, Lucrecia knew that she would not hesitate to do so. At the moment though, they were just friends, and Ren allowed her to feed when she needed to... all the same, as far as other Awakened Beings went, she ate far, far less than most.

"True, it could be a good start, but if I added certain aspects of the Artemis swordstep, then it would be completely lethal once perfected."

"Don't mistake your limits, 'Lark. You might be more youma than other warriors are, but you're combining two – no, three – techniques that even exceptional slayers had trouble controlling. You don't want to end up... like me..." The former warrior sighed almost inaudibly, drawing in her breath slowly through pursed lips.

"You know, you don't have to keep up that human appearance when we're not being watched," the silver-eyed slayer remarked, watching with some degree of fascination as Lucrecia nodded gratefully and released nearly all of her power in a short burst. Her braided hair fell loose and became bladed extensions, her back bent over as sinewy wings branched out in an almost-dance. With a sigh of contentment, she completed her partial transformation into the elf-like being that her sword style had been named after – her awakened form could have been called angelic had it not been for the golden, slitted eyes and the reasonably wild look to the former warrior's body. Like most youma, she was still human-like in shape, though she possessed what was easily ten times the strength and speed. Folding her dual wings back behind her, she returned to her seated position when she looked up questioningly into her companion's silvery eyes.

"There's another warrior coming – not too powerful, but all the same..." Lucrecia sounded worried, her sprite-like form nearly instantly moving into its former façade.

"I'll fight her if she tries to kill you. But... Don't use your real form if we fight, okay? You won't need to," the Claymore responded, not taking her eyes off of the star-filled sky. If Lucrecia released her awakened form, she would need to hunt again. The organization was already suspicious enough as it was... But she was honestly living on borrowed time; the so-called 'Claymore' organization was still trying to figure out how to kill her without sustaining reasonably heavy losses - and they didn't even know about Lucrecia yet.

_Oh, well_, she thought, not really caring anymore. Yawning widely, she displayed sharp teeth – just another manifestation of her high concentration of youma blood.

* * *

The warrior paused for a moment, sensing the aura of one of her comrades nearby, as well as that of an Awakened One. Looking to her partner, she nodded and they moved towards the two to intercept. Instinctively noting the power of the awakened aura, she turned back towards the area, though what she found there surprised her even as she drew her heavy sword. The two were talking quietly, sitting next to one another as if neither posed a threat to the other. She stepped over towards the two, completely on her guard, and began to swing her sword towards the Awakened One...  
...and the clang of another sword stopped her. The warrior had stopped her sword. 

"If you're going to try and kill Lucrecia, I suggest you bring at the very least two more warriors," the silver-haired slayer sighed. "Besides, she's not really a threat at the moment."

"I can speak for myself, despite popular belief," the awakened being grumbled, and cuffed the back of her companion's head lightly. Standing and turning towards the newcomers with inhuman grace, she moved into a defensive position behind Larkir.

"Who are you?"

"Larkir, number 7. And you two?"

"Clare, number 47."

"Jean, number 9. Why is an Awakened One with you?" When the single-digit warrior sat back on the ground and said nothing, Jean repeated the question.

"Because she's my friend, and she's nearly harmless," came the response. Clare eyed Lucrecia dubiously, still unwilling to believe it. Noticing Clare's confusion and doubt, Larkir nodded to the former warrior, who once again partially released her power long enough to allow wings to appear and fly her away. An uncomfortable silence filled the calm area and unease seemed to emanate from the weaker warrior in waves.

"You're 'Blackheart' Larkir, the one who took Ophelia's name as the 'blood-soaked warrior'," one of the newcomers – the one named Clare – said, comprehension slowly dawning on her. "And that's because that monster travels with you and helps you fight."

"You're pretty quick, you know." The smooth voice came from right behind her, where the Awakened One was currently sitting on a tree branch about ten feet above them. Clare, who had not been paying any mind to the presence of youma auras, jumped back, drawing her sword without any hesitation. Not seeming to care, the former Claymore continued in her line of thought, "most of your kind doesn't really seem to think about that, even though you're smarter than humans. I certainly didn't think in that manner before I awakened, so I suppose it's a forgivable offence, but all the same..."

"Before you awakened; so you b do /b remember that?" This time it was Jean.

"Of course; even though you may not be able to tell, I was once the warrior called 'Artemis' Lucrecia. Formerly number eight in the organization."

"You were the one to perfect the Creature of the Abyss Riful's technique," Clare responded, partially in awe.

"Yes, that would have been me," the Artemis practitioner replied, jumping gently from the tree branch to land with a soft thump in front of all three warriors. "I take it that for now, at least, you two aren't going to make any other attempts on my life?" Clare's and Jean's silence indicated that yes, the former warrior was safe for now. Sitting down, Clare sighed; since she, Jean, and Galatea had met Riful, their lives had been thrust into the relative depths of insanity. She jumped, startled, when both of her new companions walked past her and into the small lake, not unlike the one where she had fought the awakened Ophelia. Watching curiously, she marvelled at the Awakened One's sudden change into her true form, and then, even more surprisingly, Larkir released her youma power to nearly her limits, though for some reason, she didn't change at all – her face remained passive, smooth, _human_... The only thing that appeared to have changed was her eyes. They shone in the darkness as something more feral than the golden eyes which normally marked the transformation, for they were flecked with green in that gold.

Releasing her youma power roughly halfway [which would be near the limits of most so-called Claymores, Larkir raised her sword to the ready.

"The new idea with the Quicksword tonight, then?" The rough voice of Lucrecia's awakened form posed the question to her companion. Clare shifted uncomfortably; wasn't that technique only hers and Ilena's?

"Hai..." the warrior whispered, anxiously licking a bead of sweat from anticipation from her lips as it fell. At the Awakened One's nod, she leapt forward, her entire spirit focused on the mastery of that which never could be mastered.

In short, that which could lead to her downfall.

And, of course, the only technique that was sought after but never found.

_Oh, well_, she thought, not really caring anymore. Yawning widely, she displayed sharp teeth – just another manifestation of her high concentration of youma blood.

* * *

FIN 

End of Chapter One – Fallen from Grace.


	2. Beyond Limitations

Claymore by Yagi Norihiro 

Fanfiction by Ryuuzaki Kusakûrin

**DISCLAIMER:** My name's not Yagi Norihiro; obviously, Claymore isn't mine.

**WARNINGS:** Spoiler for **every single book after 7**. Yes, I've read through the current volume, 12. I'm waiting for volume 13. Possible pairings later on.

**RATING:** T, maybe M in later chapters.

**OTHER NOTES: **I write in English (UK), so if anything is misspelled in American English, it's because of minor differences in spelling and such.

**CHAPTER THEME: **LONGING by Gackt, Twilight by Nobuo Uematsu

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO: Beyond Limitations**

**Meant to Walk Alone **

The sheer size of both youma auras was astronomical in and of itself, but what Jean and Clare were witnessing was far beyond that. Both recognized the signs of awakened limbs when they saw them, and it was obvious to both that this could not possibly end well.

In the pool of water, Larkir battled with herself to keep her half-awakened form from progressing further into the depths of madness. Letting her legs completely awaken, she just let go of the control she had on that part of her anatomy. She knew that she couldn't control it **and **her spirit... so she stopped trying, and let her legs transform. The pain was unbearable; every nerve ending was afire...  
...and it was gone. Looking down at her legs, she saw something far beyond her expectations. Her legs were armoured, **strong**... she could almost taste the power coursing through her body – it made her want to feel more, it already felt so good...

* * *

"Larkir!" The cry came from the [already Awakened One now, but she could already see that her friend was out of her control now. Looking on helplessly, she moved out of her friend's current range, readying her sword to kill Larkir, if necessary. She regretted suggesting this to her friend, but she had truly thought that a Claymore as powerful as 'Lark could control it... 

"If she awakens and can't pull herself back, we're going to have to kill her," the former warrior admitted. "Physically, she's too strong to be pulled back – her body is the one in control, not her mind. Mentally, however, she's strong-willed and just stubborn enough to probably force the flow to shut down – she would end up like me; awakened but still fighting to keep my human heart intact through force of will alone."

"Lucre...cia..." The strangled whisper came from the struggling Claymore as she fought to hold back her power long enough to plead for a merciful death. "I can't... stop the flow... kill me while I'm still human..."

Three sets of eyes looked on as Clare moved to stop Lucrecia. Tears running down her pale face, Larkir's eyes widened as she screamed, having lost control over her human side – Jean gasped in shock – it was a replay of a few weeks ago. With a burst of energy, she transformed into a being utterly beyond the youma and Claymores alike... an Awakened One.

* * *

"I don't know if I can turn back…" The whispered fear surprised them all, save Lucrecia. While she had been prepared to kill her friend, at the same time, she had been quite confident in her comrade's ability to preserve her human mind. "I can hold my body still for an instant, but in that moment, you'll have to cut my head off… I don't know how you did it, Lucrecia, but I can't… I am unable to control my youma side for much longer." 

"Align your energy with mine," Clare said, stepping into the pool of water towards the awakening warrior. Turning to the single digit, Clare focused her energy and felt it just as she had the last time, but then it changed –

– And the violent spirit of a youma was laid bare before her; a teenager barely shielded from it knelt in a circle of light.

"I can't stop it," the girl whispered sadly to no one in particular. "I'm going to awaken and die." Clare stepped into the small circle of light, and the warrior, whom she automatically recognized as Larkir, jumped back.

"Listen to me. I need your help, but if it works, you'll survive." When the teenager nodded, she explained it as quickly as possible.

In the world outside of their communication, both Larkir and Clare had fallen silent. The water around them pulsed with odd energy, yet neither of them appeared to see. Their eyes were open, yet in a sense, they were closed. Another heartbeat later, the water rose around both of them as the energy surged and met its climax.

Opening her eyes, she saw her… fingers? Looking at Clare, she wondered who the warrior really was, but refused to ask out of mere curiosity. If she needed to know, she would ask her new friend.

* * *

Opening her eyes, she saw her… fingers? Looking at Clare, she wondered who the warrior really was, but refused to ask out of mere curiosity. If she needed to know, she would ask her new friend.

"Larkir!" The joyous cry came from Lucrecia, back in her human form. "'Lark, I was so worried about you – never do that to me again!" More or less tackling her friend, she held her in a tight embrace, so caught up in her joyous emotions that she kissed her best friend's lips, though only for an instant.

"Get off of me already, I'm alive," she gasped, feeling like her ribs were cracked. Shaking her head to clear it, she turned towards Clare and Jean. "But I might just need some new clothes…"

* * *

"Truek," the single-digit called, annoyed. She knew he was nearby, and the way he always acted around her occasionally made her want to break the cardinal rule just to get rid of him. "Come out already, I want to get back soon. Unlike _some of us_, I actually like my sleep." 

"Interestingly enough, I just got here with orders from the organization," the black-cloaked man remarked, tossing a new uniform to her from his perch on a nearby boulder. "You are to lead a hunt to the north of Pieta. Normally we would send you alone, but in this case, since you seem to have picked up two comrades, it was decided that all three of you will go." He motioned for her to come closer, and as she did, he grabbed a fist of hair. Yelping, she hopped back, rubbing her scalp angrily. Fortunately for her, he hadn't pulled out much, just enough to show it to her.

It was pure white now, rather than the light gold it should have been.

"I see," she sighed. "So it's just another trait of my youma blood slowly taking control. Next time, make it **worth** my time." With that, she walked out of the area, leaving the organization's runner where he sat.

* * *

"Lucrecia, about earlier…" She had just explained to the party what was going on – The so-called 'Silver King of the North' Isley had some of his 'forces' feeding off of random towns in the north. They would be headed there in the morning, and on the way they were to check in occasionally for assignments as they cropped up in nearby towns.

"I'm sorry, 'Lark… my feelings got the better of me," the former warrior admitted. "I was so worried, and when you came back, it felt like… like my whole being was celebrating, really."

"But you didn't mean it that way, did you?" When Lucrecia refused to respond, she continued, "I've always been able to read you much like a book, so whatever you say – or don't say – will just confirm my thoughts."

"I – no, wrong train of thought there, you _are_ the only one who still acts like I'm human, despite the measures that you go through to ensure that I remain myself. It was the only way I could still thank you without you really noticing it… I tried to protect you for as long as I could, until you became too strong for me to shield any longer. I still try, honestly I do, but the truth is that I **do** have some feelings for you. You're my friend, my comrade, my guardian, my… well, you're really my everything… and I can't ever 'be with' a normal human."

"It's not like I don't understand where you're coming from, you know," Larkir commented, rather amused at her friend's sudden inability to speak properly.

"Then you understand?"

"Of course, but it doesn't mean that I necessarily return it... Or that I necessarily _can_. Our lives are _meant_ to be lonely. That's why we're raised the way we are. It's cruel, but it's the only truth I have left to cling to."

"I see," Lucrecia replied quietly, her head bowed slightly after this revelation.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't return those feelings, appropriate to our situation though they may be."

With that, she left for the night, falling asleep in the bend of a tree branch.

* * *

FIN 

End of Chapter Two – Beyond Limitations.


	3. Memories Forgotten

Claymore by Yagi Norihiro 

Fanfiction by Ryuuzaki Kusakûrin

**DISCLAIMER:** I own books 1 – 10. If you can sue me for that, please amuse me by trying.

**WARNINGS:** Spoiler for **every single book after 7**. Yes, I've read through the current volume, 12. I'm waiting for volume 13. Possible pairings later on.

**RATING:** T, maybe M in later chapters.

**CHAPTER THEME: **To Zanarkand by Nobuo Uematsu

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: Memories Forgotten**

**Meant to Walk Alone **

_So long... Too long. And still, there wasn't ever enough time._

It had been several years since Lucrecia's awakening, and only days since her own. She was grateful to Clare for her rescue, but it left her with more questions than answers, in all honesty. All the same, she was still a so-called Claymore; no matter what was on her mind, she had assignments to complete – in this case she was travelling north to Pieta and clearing the villages in her path as she went. Leaving to meet the black-cloaked man from the organization, Larkir began the daunting task of just _finding_ him. It was bad enough that he was intelligent - he could hide from her for hours if not days - but he was also human, which meant that she couldn't sense him, either. At the same time that she grew frustrated with him though, she knew that he had the immunity of the cardinal rule. She simply sighed and waited. She knew Lucrecia was watching nearby - no sane Claymore would allow an Awakened Being this close without a good reason.  
"You've already completed your last task, then," he commented, stepping into the open. "Lately, you've been more efficient than ever, it seems."  
"Either that or you're growing complacent – as always," she remarked wearily.

"What was so important that you called me out here at midnight?" Judging by the mirthful look on what she could see of his face, it was clear that he was going to give her some tedious assignment because she was in the area.

_What do you know, I was right... Something simple enough to be considered tedious..._

Going by what he looked like alone was an astoundingly bad idea in this case, though.

* * *

She sighed as she reviewed the assignment. She, Jean, and Clare were to find and eliminate an awakened being - it was a former single digit, so of course she had been warned to be careful; there was nothing new there, for sure. Apparently it had eliminated five members of a nearby village in a single night. Silently walking back to her companions, she pondered over the assignment. An awakened being nearby, maybe it had been following them for some time now, it hadn't fed often but when it did its appetite was usually voracious, and...

The truth hit her like a ton of bricks. Visibly shaken, she stopped and shook her head as if to clear it.

They might be asking her to kill Lucrecia. Maybe, maybe not, but all the same it was best to be careful. Purposefully striding into the small area that they had chosen as a resting point for that night, she walked up to Lucrecia and touched her shoulder, startling her out of light sleep. Motioning for silence, she walked off with her friend and began to question.

"Have you... gone hunting recently, Lucrecia-san?" Her voice, normally emotionless and sarcastic, was cold and oddly detached.

"Once, yes, but only because I had to. That was several days ago, though."

"How many?" That was really all she could ask because, as much as she wanted to hate herself for it, she was talking about human lives here. If she said anything else, there was nary a doubt that her head would come off from one of her numerous comrades; it would probably be willingly, too.

"Three. They were sick and dying; when I explained to them what they were sacrificing their lives for, they offered their remaining lifespan to me," she replied softly. "You know I never feed without asking unless I truly need it."

It was true. That was what Lucrecia always did – unless she was denied for too long and on the verge of losing her human self. She only fed when she absolutely needed to, and then she would approach villages or small settlements in her human form, explaining that she had to live for her sister, her closest friend, and her protector – and usually there were those so stricken with illness or dying for some reason, or even those with no reason to live any longer – and they would give themselves to her in exchange for kindness to their families or homes once they understood the consequences of **not** doing so. There were times, though, when the former warrior showed compassion and instead used her own power of regeneration to help those in need after approaching villages. A simple infusion of just a few drops of blood would lend inhuman regenerative powers to humans while keeping them from being like the Claymores; they didn't have superhuman strength, longevity, or the ability to release any youma power. They were just normal humans after whatever ailment they had been infected with was cured. That was Lucrecia's true power. She was never much of a fighter because she always silently mourned the dead – youma or human – after each fight. She was not, and had never been, fit for battle.

* * *

"Larkir?" 

The quiet voice drew her back into herself and out of her reverie, only to give her a shock that she had not been anticipating. The former warrior still donned her human clothes, but had transformed her body into the silver-eyed slayer that she had once been. Her light golden hair shone in the moonlight, her silver eyes were wide and compassionate as Larkir looked on.

"If you'd like, I can give you your old uniform – I had the organization repair your insignia and give me a new uniform – that was the first uniform I wore after you left. I wore it until I found you, months later." Lying down on the cool moss, she turned her head to the former single-digit. "After you came to me, almost out of control and nearly without your humanity intact, I almost died, remember?"

"Yeah... I remember telling you that no matter who I had been, you were the stupidest of all Claymores for allowing me to get anywhere near you without drawing your sword. And then..." Lucrecia trailed off, gently rubbing her finger over the scar on her friend's face. "I gave you this. I can remember you laying my sword in front of me, telling me that the organization had declared me a lost cause– "

"– Begging you to listen to reason and let me pull you back, even at the cost of my own sanity. At first you thought I was just trying to kill you, until I let you pierce through my body and crush my arms. All the while, I was still trying to get the truth through your skull, wasn't I?"

"Mmm. That you were. Persistent as ever, but then it felt like I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was in your arms, and you thought that I was dead. You were crying for me as much as you were from the pain, I think."

"Agreed. It was more because of what I thought I had done to you, I think."

"That's the only time that I've wanted to kill you, really... The rest of the time was spent thanking you for not losing hope in me," Lucrecia admitted, her silver eyes filled with tears as she moved from a sitting position to a reclined one, laying next Larkir. "After I awakened, I barely had the willpower to make sure that you were alright rather than killing you there and I admit that I lost hope in myself. You've always had that strength to push me through the hard times, and because of you, I've kept living."

"I'm glad for that, then. You're still alive for me if not yourself, and that is a comfort to me."

"Larkir, I..." The warrior's head turned to look at Lucrecia with her gold, slitted eyes.

"You're reaching your limit, aren't you?"

The voice had come from Jean. Clare, too, was awake and listening.

"You're just looking for somewhere to die now," the single-digit continued, somehow hitting all of the awakened one's concerns right on the head. "It's because you don't feel like you can retain your human consciousness much longer, isn't it?" The former warrior nodded gently, turning her head away from the three warriors. "Don't give up yet. We're still here, and despite our differences, we're pretty much the same as you, so until we get an order to dispatch of you, you're with us, alright?"

"If you don't mind... I'll be back shortly," Larkir nodded and sprinted off into the distance.

"I knew that I felt something out here, and I was right..." Glancing at the pretty girl bathing in the stream right in front of her, she drew her sword. "If you don't want me to lop off your head right now, I suggest you show me your true form."

* * *

FIN 

End of Chapter Three – Memories Forgotten.


	4. Truth Behind the Madness

Claymore by Yagi Norihiro 

Fanfiction by Ryuuzaki Kusakûrin

**DISCLAIMER:** cracks eye open Go away. It's not mine.

**WARNINGS:** Spoiler for **every single book after 7**. Yes, I've read through the current volume, 12. I'm waiting for volume 13. Possible pairings later on.

**RATING:** M for violence. You were warned.

**OTHER NOTES: **I write in English (UK), so if anything is misspelled in American English, it's because of minor differences in spelling and such.

**CHAPTER THEME: **REDEMPTION by Gackt, To Zanarkand by Nobuo Uematsu

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: The Truth Behind the Madness**

**Meant to Walk Alone **

"Hmm? What's that?" The blonde turned her head ever so slightly, revealing eyes of the purest blue. Her pale, fragile skin flushed as she turned towards the single digit. The blade of the warrior's Claymore bit into the girl's shoulder before she could do anything more. "You were aiming for my head there, weren't you?" Her full lips forming into a smirk, she allowed her form to release itself, fully ready for battle.

The gigantic being in front of her had no particular pattern to its form, its multiple legs and well-armoured body reminding her almost of a bug. Its horned head was curved outward, angry spikes protruding from the appendages working as arms.

"Well, now, and to think that I was even the slightest bit worried…" Her actions were a blur as she accelerated into an approximation of Miria's phantom step. Her left arm forced her Claymore into the bronze shell, grunting as her arm was shaken by the force of impact. As she flew backward, shattering a few trees, she allowed herself the release of thirty percent power – it allowed her to land on her feet rather than in a disadvantageous position. That in itself increased her speed minutely, but it was her wings that gave her the best advantage. Curling her arms inward and around her own body, she watched the monster's projectile-like spines as they flew toward her unprotected body…

…and curses flew from the awakened being as they literally bounced off of armoured wings. When the wings parted, the Claymore behind them grinned ferally as the veins in her arms bulged to accommodate the increased blood flow.

_Forty Percent. _

Launching herself into the air off of one of the shattered trees, she spun as she cleared the treeline. Her silhouette against the moon looked positively demonic. Every part of her seemed to exude a dark aura as she flew downward, shattering a tree as she pierced through one of the awakened one's limbs. As the former warrior looked around to see what had hurt so suddenly and so badly, cruel laughter floated down from the sky once again.

_Fifty Percent. _

The Claymore was perched on a tree, her golden eyes glowing in the darkness as she mocked the struggling beast. Leaping from the branch, she grabbed onto the former warrior's front left leg, smashing her sword down on it with another burst of maniacal laughter. Out of control, she slung her sword into the main body, not giving the monster a chance to react as she thrust her sword into the main body, continuing to release more youma power, raising it from fifty percent to sixty percent. Her arms rippled with the new muscle growth as she continued to slowly power up, raising one percent at a time. Blood spurted from a wound and splashed onto Larkir's face, but the warrior didn't seem to care; she licked at it and once again shoved her sword up and into the body, eliciting a harsh shriek of pain from the awakened one.

_Sixty Percent_.

An extended claw jabbed past her seemingly forgotten defence, piercing her stomach and then part of a lung. The Claymore let out a choked scream, revealing her sharp, pointed teeth. Narrowing her slitted eyes, she hissed in pain as the wound healed instantly. Flapping her wings and propelling herself into the air, Larkir caught a few of the spikes mid-air and shot them back right at the awakened one. Her sword lay forgotten on the ground – all that was left of the collected warrior was the uniform, it seemed. Her golden eyes glinted in satisfaction as the scent of blood hit her nose once again. Her senses were assailed with the essence of pain in the air – it was nearly tangible – and she leapt down to her prey once again, hands easily extending into claws and ripping another leg off. Unable to regenerate, the former warrior shrieked and attempted to flee, but was blocked easily by the Claymore. No matter where she tried to run, the slayer seemed to be there already.

_Seventy Percent. _

Her hands were completely clawed, her wings were patterned with vines. Slamming a hand down to the ground, the trail of vines spread to the terrified awakened one. Veins may have been more appropriate, for they were merely an extension of her own body, linked to her nervous system and brain. She was close to her limit, yet her yoki kept rising, and all of the nearby warriors could sense that. Not that Larkir cared. She was completely berserk in her bloodlust. As the vines wrapped around the struggling being, she lunged forward and into the fray, her sharp teeth ripping at another limb as her claws brutally tore through another, turning the beast into a bloody fountain. The vine-like extensions wrapped tighter and tighter around the former warrior's throat as Larkir revelled in the gore she had caused. A cruel smirk twisted her expression as she looked on at her struggling prey, cocking her head in dark amusement and holding up her left hand for the awakened being to see. It was attached to the vines. Laughing with the guarantee of victory, she held it up, open, for a moment longer. Then she clenched it shut, her claws biting into her own skin as she did so. A loud, sickening crack echoed through the bloodstained battleground when the opponent's neck snapped.

* * *

Clare, Jean, and Lucrecia stood watching from a thick tree branch, both in awe and disgusted by the sight. They watched as mere bystanders as Larkir snapped the awakened being's neck and ripped the head completely off, veins in the limp body snapping with small pops as she did so. Nodding to both the warriors, Lucrecia hopped down into the battleground, followed shortly by Jean and Clare.

"Strike for semi-fatal wounds. It'll be enough to stop her," Lucrecia called in explanation as she parried an attack from the frenzied warrior. Slinging her sword around in the Quicksword, Clare stepped forward and sliced into Larkir's ribcage, but with a snarl, the single digit leapt away to heal, only to be stopped by Lucrecia. Having transformed half of her body into its awakened form, she was more than enough of a match for Larkir, even in this state. Lucrecia expanded her arm and split it into five as she usually did in her awakened form, using it to suspend Larkir's hands long enough for the fifth limb to plunge into her stomach and through the back, nearly breaking her spinal cord. Screaming her pain and rage to the sky, Larkir made one last attempt to free herself before falling limp to the ground, wounds already beginning to heal even while her youma energy began a steady decline.

* * *

Lucrecia gently caught her friend and set her on the ground as she transformed back into her human façade and rushed up to cradle Larkir's prone form. Carefully brushing white hair off of the warrior's bloodied face, she watched the wings recede into her back and her teeth return to their normal less vampiric state. Placing a hand over the wound in her stomach, Lucrecia gently eased the healing process along. Sighing quietly, she laid her claymore beside her, not looking up as the two warriors approached cautiously.

"Does she always fight like this?" Jean was the first to speak.

"Not always, but whenever she hasn't fought in a while or she fights alone, she goes more or less berserk. Because she's 75 youma, she always lusts for human flesh and blood, though she keeps the urge under control. If she's faced with an extended fight, then this happens." An undercurrent of bitterness in her voice, she continued, "_This _is what happens when one tries to make a naturally occurring Claymore even more powerful." Wiping the blood off of her friend's face and hands, she kept her voice steady and kept talking. "All I can do is clean her up after the fights, or if possible, fight with her, because it spares her the pain of realizing what she really is. She's already more powerful than many awakened beings are when she's like this, but… it would hurt her so badly to realize that all along, the organization was right to try and kill her. She's too powerful and too intelligent at the same time, and that makes her a valuable but dangerous asset to the organization. She probably has the same amount of power that 'Dark' Alicia does, if she were ever to awaken. The organization would have to classify her as something close to an Abyssal One simply because of her power."

"So that's the truth, isn't it? That's why you're still with her, instead of killing yourself." Jean spoke again, but it was more along the lines of thinking aloud than continuing any actual conversation.

"Aa," the awakened one agreed uneasily. "As odd as it sounds, I'm her last lifeline and her last connection to humanity. Without someone else around to keep her from realizing what she really is, she would probably either kill herself out of shame or awaken out of anger."

A quiet groan issued from Larkir's mouth, the tang of blood on her lips as she woke.

"Hey there," Lucrecia murmured, wiping the last bit of blood from her comrade's face. "Welcome back to the living, sunshine," she joked, clearly trying to cheer up some so that Larkir wouldn't realize how worried they had been.

"Shut up," Larkir muttered. "So what happened?"

"You almost finished the beast off when it somehow knocked you out," Clare responded tonelessly, to Lucrecia's surprise. "We arrived in time to finish it off and protect you." When Larkir looked to Lucrecia for confirmation that this was indeed the truth, the awakened being subtly nodded. More at ease, the warrior sat up cautiously, putting a hand to her head and rubbing.

"Ehh… at least the job's done, right?"

Everyone nodded mutely and it remained silent until Larkir grabbed her claymore and headed back towards the makeshift camp.

* * *

FIN 

End of Chapter Four – The Truth Behind the Madness.


	5. Not Really Hidden

Claymore by Yagi Norihiro 

Fanfiction by Ryuuzaki Kusakûrin

**DISCLAIMER:** WHEEE!!! Oh… wait… claim of ownership? I own my manga Tsuki no Shin'ya, but that's it.

**WARNINGS:** Spoiler for **every single book after 7**. Yes, I've read through the current volume, 12. I'm waiting for volume 13. Possible pairings later on.

**RATING:** T, maybe going back to M a little later.

**OTHER NOTES: **I write in English (UK), so if anything is misspelled in American English, it's because of minor differences in spelling and such. This is the longest chapter so far – I really got carried away here. I actually began work on this chapter before I finished chapter three.

**CHAPTER THEME: **Esper by Hitoshi Sakimoto, The Chase of Highway by Nobuo Uematsu, Raito's Theme by Yoshihisa Hirano and Hideki Taniuchi, Michiyuki by Hikida Kaori

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE: Not Really Hidden**

**Meant to Walk Alone **

"If you already knew about Lucrecia's existence, why didn't you ask me to kill her?"

"She was useful," the response came floating down through the trees. "We received no requests about her, and we knew that because of your unusual background, you could possibly control her."

"Then I'm going to request that you give me a uniform for her. She wants to help in Pieta."

"That could cause an interesting uproar," Truek replied, tossing a spare set of arm- and leg-guards down from his rapidly shrinking pack. "If you insist, though, I can arrange for extra uniforms in her size..." Not really chancing anything to lack of information, Larkir responded quickly.

"And how does this benefit the organization? I've been around long enough to know that before any of your lot will do anything kind or helpful, it has to become either a serious problem or a real benefit."

"Mmm, don't say such things, your imagination deceives you. Also, you'll be at the mercies of another handler after tonight. His name is Torias; don't beat up on him too badly, eh?" Tossing the rest of the pack to Larkir, he left in the direction of Sutafu - the headquarters of the organization.

* * *

Her latest mission completed, she set off for the predetermined arrival point with her newest 'handler'. 

As she arrived, a mass of limbs tumbled out from a tree. The first thing she noticed was his clothing - it made no attempt to hide his face. The second thing she saw were his silver eyes. Black hair, tanned skin, and silver eyes? It made no sense to her, but for all his looks, he was just human. **Painfully** human for his klutziness, even. Still, she envied him. She had never been human, and thus had never made those mistakes.

"So you're Torias?"

"Uh...hai. Are you Larkir?" At her glare, he flushed, clearly embarrassed. "I'm just one of the boys that the organization picked up – not many of us actually get to serve, and a lot of us are just kept for menial work. You're the first warrior I've had the honour to meet," he remarked, looking her up and down. "Anou… Miss Larkir…"

"Hmm?"

"Why are your eyes gold? You aren't using any youma power, are you?" He looked around nervously, almost seeming to attempt sensing the yoki. She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, but knew that she had to reveal it to him – those were the rules.

"I've never been human. I thought the organization would have told you that by now," she scoffed.

"W-what?" Apparently he hadn't been told.

"I was born half-human, half-youma. Because of that, when the organization put youma flesh and blood into my body, I lost another half of what little humanity I already possessed. I'm three-fourths youma now. That's why my eyes are always golden. It's called 'unconscious release', and it does that without my will being involved."

"Then why is your hair white?" he pointed out.

"Because it is; do you have any other irrelevant questions?"

"Anou… no. I apologize for asking," he murmured, obviously a bit disappointed in himself. "I just wanted to know, that was all."

"I apologize as well," she replied, her gaze softening. The boy couldn't have been over 17, she noted. "I didn't mean to upset you; it's just that my lineage is a rather… touchy subject." She realized that he must have been some sort of failure as well, since he was assigned to her without being told anything. "Why did the organization send you out here, anyway?"

"Well, they said that I was going to be working for a warrior who would soon be finishing her term of service, and so they just told me to keep an eye on her and make sure that she finished her last weeks in grace."

"Soon be finishing my term of service, eh? So I'll just have to be more careful from now on," she remarked.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been a so-called Claymore for only about five years. The average term of service before we awaken is… ten years, more or less. In your human years, I'm seventeen years old. And because of my high percentage of youma blood, the organization has been trying to… dispose of me for my entire term thus far. They've sent weak warriors, strong warriors, but every since time myself and my companion have fought them off."

"But the organization would never do something like that!"

"I wish I could agree with you. However, I can't, because I know it's true. Actually…"

She was cut off by the brush of a sword against her neck.

"You don't really feel like fighting, do you? You can always just die gracefully."

"What am I, an awakened one?" Acrobatically leaping to the side, she realized that the other warrior's target was now Torias. Pushing him to the side with her body, she called to the warrior. "You just tried to kill a human. Do you really find life not worth living?"  
"I can only get punished if someone finds out," came the response. "Since you're going to die here all the same, I figured that I could have some fun while I was at it."

As she shoved Torias back down and behind her, she realized that this must have been one of Ophelia's few friends – they were all like her in terms of personality. Looking at the symbol, she recognized the girl immediately.

"Rianne," she breathed. Rianne had been promoted to number four some time ago following her friend's death as an awakened being, but she had never seemed this powerful when viewed from afar.

"Heh. Finally recognizing things now that you're just another cornered animal?"

Larkir didn't feel the need to respond to that, and so she closed her eyes, releasing her youma power as she always did when fighting her own comrades. Her wings spread as usual, and when she opened her golden eyes, they were tainted with green. As she raised her sword, a slash opened above her hand, though it was obviously meant to sever it.

"You'll have to slice with more power if you really want to cut off a limb. Remember that you're not dealing with your normal human or youma bones." Raising an eyebrow, she surveyed the wound calmly. "However, if you really must know, they're the strength of our former comrades – the awakened ones." Smirking, she launched herself into the air and flew downward at Rianne, swinging her sword and slicing an arm – not too deeply, she wanted to give the warrior a chance to change her mind about fighting – and when she showed no signs of wanting to give up, Larkir sliced both arms completely off with what little knowledge she had of the quicksword.

The anguished cry hit her only a second afterward, just after the huge yoki did. Various trees were blown back by the strength of it, and the entire hillside seemed to crumble.

She already knew why they had sent this warrior after her – it was her similarity to Ophelia and her joy in killing. But the huge yoki was proving that there may have been another motive. Tossing her sword into Torias's hands, she sent a concentrated burst of yoki at Lucrecia. That was her signal to come out. Her sword in hand, the former warrior entered the newly-cleared area, her brown braid blown back over her shoulder. She had not yet assumed the form of her former self, so when she raised her Claymore, Torias looked confused.

"I'll explain later," she called to him, nodding to Lucrecia, who hopped up to her side.

"Take care of him – this one's a bit like Ophelia. I can't fight and protect him at the same time, though…" Clare and Jean appeared behind Lucrecia. At the same time that the two appeared, Lucrecia hopped off of the rock to engage the hostile warrior, buying them a little time.

"Clare, I hate to ask this of you, but… Do you think that you could stop me… if I fought her as an awakened one?"

"It's too risky," Jean responded before Clare even opened her mouth. "There's no guarantee that we could bring you back, even if you kept your human mind."

"Lucrecia can, but you'll need to tell her for me. Defend her with your life, because if she dies, I'll awaken, and there's no way that I can defeat this warrior as I am now. I don't want either of you two caught up in this – stay here and trust me." Jumping back into the fray, Lucrecia resurfaced as the two assumed defensive positions around Torias.

"Lucrecia, Larkir said that you'll need to bring her back after she awakens…"

"So the enemy's that tough?"

"Apparently," Jean commented, ignoring the wide-eyed looks sent in her direction by Torias.

"I'm going to borrow a trick from Alicia and Beth, I think. I've seen them fight before – it was before they completed her, though. I wonder if I can do it…" Trailing off thoughtfully, Lucrecia shouted down to her friend. "Larkir, align your yoki with mine when you do it!"

Larkir had looked towards her friend when she had shouted, and since she was no longer fighting with her sword, it proved to be a fatal mistake. Laughing suddenly, Rianne lunged into an attack and cleanly sliced a wing off. Unlike her opponent, Larkir didn't scream or even cry out. Hissing in pain, her eyes settled on her target, who had already reattached the severed limb. Narrowing her golden-green eyes, she focused her energy and began to regenerate the wing – a difficult task since she was an offensive-type warrior – but soon stopped, realizing that for now, she didn't need it.

Nodding to Lucrecia, she closed her eyes and forced her youma energy to rise, faster than it wanted to, and stronger than she usually needed it. With a choked scream she awakened, trying desperately to preserve her human mind.

Lucrecia closed her eyes at Larkir's signal and subtly aligned their youma energies together, almost perfectly. She felt the bloodlust wash over her, but kept diving into the maelstrom of emotion and feeling, finding Larkir's mental image of herself in the centre of it. Fending off the worst of it, Lucrecia and the teenager strengthened the shield surrounding them and maintained it. This was Larkir's human mind, and thus the only thing that needed defending since her body was already awakening. Entwining their hands, the two faced the darkness together.

* * *

Awakening was always a delicate moment for Alicia and Beth, but nobody could afford for it to be right now. Rianne, sensing an unguarded body, leapt for the chance. Clare hopped down from her perch on the rocks above, blocking the sword long enough for Larkir to finish her task. 

Once again, her body was completely black, well armoured, and winged. This time, however, the wings were different, as was the shape of the body. The wings were better-shaped, and more like the ones she possessed at thirty percent power. Her body was still fit for agility and mobility, legs jointed backwards and clawed at the feet. The bow above her left arm had lengthened a bit, made more for power now instead of range. Her golden eyes were narrow and focused, her vampiric white teeth showing as she snarled at her opponent. Firing the bow at Rianne, she noted how the Claymore seemed surprised when the senbon-shaped arrow pierced her shoulder. Rianne was easily past fifty percent, but seemed to still be undaunted by the fact that she was facing an awakened one alone. Swinging her sword upward into one of Larkir's four wings, she froze suddenly.

The arrow appeared to be melting onto her body, more specifically her arm. When it stopped advancing onto her flesh, Rianne tried to swing her sword again and found that she could not. A half-smile from the awakened warrior, and she found her sword at her throat.

"Grrr…" Rianne forced her yoki up further and broke the controlling substance off in several pieces.

"Oh, so you could withstand that… you're quite strong," the awakened Larkir replied, calmly shooting one arrow after another in the general direction of the single digit. As soon as they made contact, they spread over her body and struggled to control it.

"V-Vines?" Rianne seemed surprised. This time, as the black substance spread over her body, silver vines followed it.

"Relax. This can be so much more comfortable for you, because you can't escape anymore." Having said that, the substance began to tighten around her entire body and squeeze more and more, until several cracking sounds came from her body, finally becoming a gushing torrent of blood. The warrior had died in agony.

Releasing her hold on the dead body, Larkir turned and jumped up to the perch where the other warriors were, her body becoming human as she sailed through the air. Sweat dotted her brow and her hair was matted with blood, but she was still herself. Golden eyes fell on Lucrecia, silently thanking her. Extending her hand toward Torias, she offered him an apology and a kind of repayment for putting him in danger.

"I need to talk to this one," she explained to the others, waiting for them to disappear and return to wherever they had been. Leading her new 'handler' along, she stopped by a stream and looked at him, apologizing. "I need to clean up a bit… if you don't mind, I can talk to you while I wash."

"Anou… I… I don't mind," he said, blushing madly as she removed her armour and uniform shirt, shortly followed by the waist pouch [or skirt and pants. She could hear his heart rate rising due to the after-effects of awakening, and called back towards him in response.

"If it's too embarrassing to watch me, you could always just look away."

"Oh… anou, you're probably right, it's just that I've never seen –"

"Never seen a woman naked before?" At least she seemed amused, Torias thought with an inaudible sigh of relief. She seemed nice enough now, but having seen what she could do was enough to make him worry for his own safety. A quiet chuckle told him that she found all of this rather funny.

"Who was that woman earlier? The one with the brown hair – she had a claymore from the organization, didn't she?" Looking at him sharply, Larkir realized that for all his clumsiness, he had a sharp mind.

"Yes, she did. She is a former warrior."

"An awakened one, then… why is she with you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"She was – _is _– my best friend and something akin to a sister. She was number eight in the organization before she awakened."

"You're full of surprises, you know," the black-haired youth commented. "I'm done interrogating you now, if you feel the need to ask me anything, go ahead."

"You are too," she shot back. "Most 'handlers' don't bother telling us anything about themselves." Beginning to shake the water out of her hair, she recalled the colour of his eyes and wondered about it. "How did you come to be born with silver eyes, Torias?"

"Apparently my mother was a Claymore… she died shortly after giving birth to me. All I've ever really known is the organization, but I don't have enough youma blood to be considered a threat or have much of a use," he sighed.

Larkir stopped to consider this, pausing in her ministrations towards her hair. "So you know what it means to be an outcast like me, eh? Not **too** surprising, though… a lot of the other Claymores swear that all their handlers must've had some kind of tragic past." Torias handed her a cloth as she rose from the water, shivering slightly when her wet skin hit the cool air.

"You've already mastered the art of making supplies form out of thin air, I see," she snorted. "You're well on your way to becoming one of the black cloaks in your own right."

* * *

Lucrecia watched from a distance once again, on guard for whatever reason. Masking her youma aura, she sat idly behind a tree, half-listening to their conversation as she thought back to earlier; her mind kept drifting to the incident a few days ago when Larkir went berserk. It wasn't entirely unusual, but it was still cause for worry. She hoped that Larkir never found out about the truth behind her insane strength, but she also knew there would come a day when she wouldn't be around to help Larkir after every one of those battles. Lucrecia wondered what would happen, though she was intelligent enough to know what the outcome most likely would be.

She would awaken; unable to focus enough to stop the building yoki in her body, she would remain out of control until the organization or the abyssal ones would be forced to cut her down. It had happened to Priscilla, one of the former number twos of the organization. Supposedly Isley had cut her down and made her his woman… but Larkir was stronger than that… right?

What would become of her after Lucrecia died?

"After I'm gone… will you become Lucrecia's guardian and 'handler'? Whoever survives the longest will become the new number seven. That's the agreement I made with Truek, and it was approved by the organization. Whichever one of us awakens or dies first loses the rank."

"Yeah. You suspect that the organization will kill whichever one of you survives though, don't you?" His silver eyes closed for a moment, sensing her unease and mild distrust from his seat. "I can't help it, you know. Youma blood and all that," he finished, smiling half-heartedly.

"Aa. I see." Larkir dried off her hair and began the short process of dressing in her new outfit; she then turned to Torias and rubbed him gently on the head, messing his hair up and making it stick out at odd ends... "Sorry for putting you in danger today, Torias." Smiling a little in his direction, she kept talking. "You know, a lot of Claymores are like that warrior from earlier today – we have nobody that we're attached to, and so the only thing we learn to care about is how many youma we can kill or how strong we are. Nothing else really matters to us."

"Why do so many of you turn murderous, then?"

"Loneliness, mostly. So many of our ranks never even remember what it is to love or to feel love at all. Thus, we don't make friends easily, and usually when we do, it's because we happened to be in the same place at the same time. In all honesty, the only friend I've ever had is Lucrecia, and she's more of a sister than a friend."

Hearing that, Lucrecia smiled sadly; she should have known that Larkir would've been fine with this new 'handler'. She was more open than a lot of Claymores, but only Lucrecia really knew her. Standing up and walking back to the spot Clare and Jean had picked for the night, she left the two to themselves.

* * *

"I've never really… made friends, either," Torias explained cautiously. His silver eyes widened as he sensed a slight burst of youma energy coming from Larkir, who was sitting close to him on the sun-warmed rock, seeming to enjoy the sunset. 

"Aa, that gives us a similarity, doesn't it? We're both loners, to a certain extent."

"True enough." Standing up and brushing himself off, Torias offered her his hand. Taking it, Larkir thanked him with a brief smile. "I need to head back to the regional headquarters for now, so until then, watch your back."

"I don't need to tell you to, do I," she mused, almost laughing outright when he blushed. Struck with the desire to see him smile again, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remember to keep your personality when working within the organization, right? Too many of the black-cloaks forget that." He did indeed smile, and before he left, she offered another smile and went on her way. She had never been in such a good mood, especially after having to kill one of her pursuers from the organization, but as she saw it, it was because of the company. Slightly melancholy, she returned to Rianne's body and buried it calmly, wishing that she hadn't had to kill her simply because of the organization's pride. Stabbing the sword into the ground above her fallen comrade's head, she placed a small flower as an offering to a woman dead for the lack of understanding.

* * *

FIN

End of Chapter Five: Not Really Hidden.


End file.
